Rae Stoltenkamp's Blog

A Triumvirate

Brairton’sminions slipped through a barely noticeable fissure.  The tear would close shortly.  Despite the increase in their regularity the breachesrarely stayed open very long.  To thethree insidious spies, the stink of the new world was almost unbearable.  But in time the triumvirate would each becomeso used to it they would scarcely notice it at all.  That it poisoned them they did not know.  Brairton was not in the habit of informinghis operatives of fatal consequences. Their programming precluded any thought beyond the mission they mustcomplete.  In this Brairton had beenexact and had performed the necessary rituals himself.

Eachhad their mission branded into their being. They would travel together for some time but then slip off to theirsecret destinations one by one, never to see each other again. The threesomelatched on to their individual targets and began their particular brand of individualmischief immediately.

Minionone skulked off to ensconce itself in the office of a little knownpsychiatrist.  His stock in trade wasmedication over analysis. It was extremely lucrative on every level. Alongsidethis paragon of an ethics-less human, the minion found a goblin still smartingfrom the injustice of the time that was. It was more than willing to sprinklecopious quantities of the dust of despair. 

Thesecond, wobbling a little; settled in for a very long stay on the shoulder of aman tall in stature but weak in nature, nursing a dirty family secret andstruggling to leave behind the mind-set of a thirteen year old boy growing upin the shadow of the Berlin Wall.

Andthe final minion snuggled down between the pages of a partially empty notebookwhere it relished the bitterness residing in the discordant rhythms of thescattered words on some of the pages. Its flicking tongue licked at the grief,hostility and enmity bound up in the swirling script. Then in true parasiticfashion, it vomited more venom onto the empty pages, smeared and contaminatedfurther, imagined the bile to come and the vile thing rejoiced.

InFaetaera, Brairton's thin black lips twitched with satisfaction at the buzzreport in his left ear.  The triangle ofcircumstance was in place.  Nothing shortof a miracle could stop events now.

Hedismissed the wasp and turned to his other duties for the day.  One of these was a visit with Aurelia.  He marvelled at how she always seemed abreastof what went on around her.  Perhaps hewas underestimating Lac Taal's capabilities. He thought again of Taal’s clear obsession with the queen. He was abumbling buffoon, controlled by the waves of desire he always gave off in herpresence. It would be Lac Taal’s downfall. Of this Brairton was certain.

Larell’sheart was full to the brim.  His audiencewith Aurelia had been unexpected and full of wonder.  He was not surprised she was aware of hisplans to send a force through to the other side.  Aurelia always knew everything going on inher world.  At times he thought he sawthe weight of it bearing down upon her. Then he wished to take her in his arms and carry her as well as theburdens she bore.  But of course he wouldnever do this, merely imagine it.  Itmade him love her all the more.  Shethought he did not know how she came by her information and he planned onkeeping it that way.  It was the only wayhe knew to express his love for her without feeling foolish.  

Inthe crystal lined chamber he felt her load more palpably than usual.  He knew it was simply his foolishlove-sickness for his Queen but he let the feeling soak through himregardless. 

Aurelia'slips twitched briefly as though she was amused. She was kind in her tolerance of his ridiculous obsession.

Larellfinished his daily report to her and there was a pause in theirconversation.  They were both recliningin the cushioned area near the window which looked out towards the BlueridgeMountains.  But the main focus lay withinthe room. Aurelia stood and moved towards the window seat.  With her back to Larell she spoke as thoughto the view.  “I approve of this mission,but I want to ask that you lead it.”

Startled,Larell sat up to attention.  “But mylady…”

Shedid not let him finish.  “I know.  You are Chief of Security and your placeshould be in The Citadel.”  She turned toface him. Her eyes burned with an intensity he had not witnessed before.  “I believe, deep within my heart, you are theonly one who can make this end as it should.” She raised a hand to stall hisinterruption. “I do not say your lieutenants are untrustworthy.  It is simply that they are not you.”

Larellcould not speak. He looked at Aurelia in wonder.  What doesshe mean?

“LarellLac Taal, there is within you a seed of hopeless romanticism which is what wewill need for this mission to succeed. There will be many obstacles upon the way but the biggest one of all isthat we are warring with ourselves in this. And in this fight I want only my most dedicated warriors on myside.”  Aurelia waved her hand to stillthe argument she saw rising to his lips. “Don't remind me you do not consider yourself a warrior.  Whatever else your failings there is onething in which I know you are constant. This is what I am counting on.”

Andthere it was; the final acknowledgement that his Queen knew how deep his lovefor her ran.  He waited for a sense ofshame to wash through and over him, but rather her steady gaze stilled andbathed him in awe and majesty.  For thefirst time in his life Larell felt his love for Aurelia was not simply the ridiculousnotion of a foolhardy knave.  It was asthough the walls of the crystal chamber reflected a jumbled and yet incompletenarrative of how he could unravel the mystery of the strangeness making itselfmore evident in Faetaera every day. More than he could express, Larell wantedto save his world from any unknown quantity which could bring unlooked forterrors in its wake.  And another part ofhimself saw too how a life without his world would be far worse than anythingelse.

SoLarell drew his attention away from the distortion of mirrored images thecrystal flashed at him and looked into the eyes of his Queen.  He rose from his pile of cushions and joinedAurelia at the window.  Made brave by thepartial visions he had seen, Larell reached across and took Aurelia’s hand inhis.  For the briefest moment he thoughthe saw a flicker of displeasure in her eyes but then she turned to face themountains and did not remove her hand from his. They stood hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder till the sun set behind thesnow-capped peaks.  Then Aurelia slippedher fingers from his and left the chamber.

Whenthe officers trapped the goblin it went berserk.  It tore chunks of dough from its bread bunhat and hurled them at the officers as they tried to apprehend it.  Strings of melted cheese coated everyonetogether with a sweet red sauce which reeked of a rancid preserving agent.  All the while the goblin shrieked in the mostear-splitting tone.   It behaved as nogoblin has behaved since the time that was. The Queen had taken every precaution to finish those times, eradicatethem.  

Thegoblin’s behaviour once in the holding cell was stranger still.  It would not give its name nor clan reference.  Larell thought he sensed confusion when ithad been asked its clan designation, as though it had never belonged to any.  This was another in a line of disconcertingoccurrences making Larell tremble with fear for his beloved world.

Itwas clear the goblin was ill.  It nolonger shrieked.  That had stopped somewhile ago.  Now it sat hunched against afar wall, its double hooded eyes unblinking. From time to time its slim body convulsed violently.  Large folds of its green skin unpeeled incurls, beginning to clutter up the cell, not to mention the horrendous stenchthese leavings were giving off.  EvenGamden’s nose was twitching and his sense of smell was usually none existent.

Larellhad sent Presley to the outmost Island of Elisma.  There he hoped the genie could find the mostexperienced healer Faetaera had in existence. 

Pleasedo not let those awful times of sorrow return.Larell sent his thoughts out to the last of the Pattern Keepers bindingexistence. Don’t let go of the whispering life the Queen brought back to usin the early Days of Thunder. Larell did not want to feel his Queen’smournful sorrow ever again.

Gamdenbegan to emit a siren-like wail.  Thegoblin was dying and Gamden could sense it.

“Goto your cave Gamden.” 

Thetroll lumbered out of the prison cell. Larell looked over at the jellied mass in the corner of thedungeon.  He stirred himself and sent amoth mail to Curly.  Perhaps the goat’shorns could give some insight into the goblin’s state of mind, what littlethere was remaining.

ForLarell it brought back the memory of his time in the ranks of the ImperialInfantry.  Most of the enemy infantry hadconsisted of goblins.  Such ferociousfighters.  They were notorious for theirrelentlessness in battle.  And theirspeedy breeding capabilities meant a constantly supplied enemy army. Back thenhe’d killed goblins knowing within hours more would come at him and theinfantry beside him.  When he took on thetask of securing The Citadel, goblin allegiance had been re-established.  Larell was still unsure how Aurelia had doneit, but she was a most remarkable elf queen. She had proved that time and time again.

Hewas one of only six to see her redraw the continents, roll and wrap then hidethem beneath the folds of her cloak.  Ifanything, he felt she had made them more spectacular.  It was in that precise moment, with theessence of world spiralling around her slender frame that he fell deep into thewishing well of his love for her. 

WhenElumin came from beyond the ends of the oceans with his Elnight reinforcementsLarell had stepped into the well and hidden the golden sequins of his love forhis Queen beneath the soft lapping of the well’s waters.  Because Larell saw the way shooting starsgleamed in her eyes when she looked at Elumin.

***

Curly’snostrils trembled at the stench before him but he continued to examine thepuddle the goblin had become.  “He was ofus but not of us.  There is a strongtinge of them, as though he is one of their artefacts.  It’s a shame I did not get here sooner.”

Heand Larell left the cells and headed for Larell’s private quarters.  Once settled within they continued theirdiscussion.

“Areyou saying he was made by them?” Larell measured spiced 100 proof mead into ashot glass and shallow bowl which he placed before Curly.

Curlylapped before replying. “It seems so.” His eyes went a little cross-eyed.

“Howis this possible Curly?  How have theymanaged to get our essence?”  Larell wasa full 60cm above the ground, his ankle wings beating fiercely, his agitationso great.

Curlysat down on his haunches, an image he knew amused Larell.  He hoped now it would serve to calm hisfriend.  “I don’t know.  But it can’t be good.  They have this habit of taking what isbeautiful and sacred and twisting it to their will.”  The look on Curly’s face was disturbing.  It negated the humour of his rump on thefloor.

Larellknocked back the shot of mead. “If only I knew the source.  I would launch a unit into their world toinvestigate and stop it.”  Larell, nowback on the ground, hunched down before Curly. “Would you come with us?  I knowit’s a lot to ask.  You’ve only justbegun to find your place here, but your knowledge is invaluable.”

Droppinghis head low between his forelegs Curly contemplated his hooves for quite sometime.  Then he looked up at Larell.  “I can’t refuse.  You could have had me executed when you foundout but you didn’t.  You trusted mymotives were of the purest and now I trust you because I know what drives you.”

Feelingstartled Larell looked at Curly closely. “You know.”

“Ofcourse I know. I’m trained to look at everyone and everything closely.  It’s how my profession works.  The unsaid is more powerful than you couldimagine.”

“Oh.  Perhaps I should be more guarded.”  There was a wistful quality to Larell’svoice.

Curlyrose from his position on the floor and paced round the room.  “I wouldn’t bother.  It’s more or less common knowledge.”

Larellshot up clear to the ceiling of his chamber as he shouted. “What!”

“Comedown, come down.  There’s no pointstaying up there and feeling embarrassed. Nobody hates you for it.  Theythink you work harder for the Citadel because of it.  Don’t be so meek.”

SlowlyLarell descended to the floor of the room. His feelings swirled around insidehim.  Everyone knew. Did that mean She also knew?  She probably did.  She knew everything. Larell turned to seeCurly watching him. The goat shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

Sighingbut returning the smile Larell said.  “Isuppose we have a secret mission to organise.”

Atthe casement a wasp lifted off on silent wings and headed out to locate itsmaster.

Thewindows of Brairton's office were small and high up on the wall.  So high up that he could not see out ofthem.  He didn't care much for what thescenery outside had to offer.  If hecould have it his way the place would have no windows at all.  But he needed easy access for his spies.  The feline part of Brairton's nature wanted alwaysto swat at the wasps buzzing their news to his ears.  But if he killed them before they relayedtheir information his whole Buzz System would be quite pointless. So he resisted.Regretfully.

Sofinally, he now knew how the goat fitted into Lac Taal’s network.  It had taken careful planning and positioningof his spies to find out that key point. Brairton considered letting the queen's consort know, but decided hewould keep this nugget of information locked away for the present.  A time would come when the queen would trulyunderstand his worth and see how she had underestimated him.

Hewondered how his little exercise in distraction was progressing.  Perhaps he should just take a peep at theproceedings to see if they were going according to plan.  Not that he anticipated they wouldn’t.  This was a tiny display of what he intendedfor the future.  Lac Taal would have toup his game considerably to deal with what Brairton had in mind.  The hairs on the back of his neck rose inanticipation at the mere thought and a purr of pleasure rumbled deep in histhroat.

Butthe view from the observation screens in his side wall did not cheer him in theway he had anticipated.  The twin entitywere good at their job.  He extended andretracted his claws as he walked stiffly round his desk. Brairton had to giveLac Taal his due, he knew how to pick a good crew.  But he slammed his fist hard into the surfaceof his desk.  Several nervouslyslumbering desk items leapt from the desk squeaking and scattered to thedarkest outermost reaches of the office.

Hestill had an expedition to organise and it would take careful planning.  Now, on to the third stage of theoperation.  How many operatives would heneed?  Three.  Yes, three would be more than enough.  Brairton sneered.  It was almost too easy.  If the prize waiting at the end of this matchwas not so substantial he would almost think the game unworthy of his time andtalents.

Brairtonturned casually to view the nectar pods where his exhausted spies slurped attheir reward.  With a swift motion hetrapped a plump furred wasp body between his fingers.  The insect made no effort to struggle.  Brairton pinched out its stinger and suckedat the venom, feeling the tingle of it against his tongue in the same way thehairless skin on his abdomen prickled when touched by a nettle.  He relished these sensations, but they werefleeting.  And he longed for a moresubstantial feeling, one that would linger in the mind as well as thebody.  Finally Brairton pulled out theinsect's wings, leaving them to flutter carelessly to the floor while hesavoured the taste of the nectar sweetened body of the wasp.

"Thisis so cool.  Are you going to start ariot?  There hasn't been a riot since...forever!  Actually, I don't even knowwhat a riot is, but it always sounds so exciting when mum and dad talk aboutthe rioting hordes in the old days." Muggy's voice raced to keep up with the speed of her movements.  She weaved in and out of her older brother'srapidly moving legs, dodging body pops, complicated high kicks andexaggerated Irish dancing feet flicks.

Herbrother, Badoo, tried his best to ignore her. Younger siblings, they were nothing but trouble.  It wouldn't be so bad, but Muggy was theyoungest pixling in his family and seemed to think she had to look out forhim.  But Badoo was fed up of Muggyalways getting under his feet.  Hispaggle had a thing to do and it just had to be done.  He'd been practising his steps and he didn'twant to get it wrong.  Now Muggy wasthreatening to bolas his feet from under him with her gyrations aroundhim.  Badoo kicked her unceremoniouslyout of his way and she bounced off several other pixies before landing in thefountain with a frog sized splash. 

Muggyblew water out of her mouth like a water spout as she doggy paddled to the edgeof the fountain.  She briefly glanced upat the shadow of the looming cathedral before scrabbling over the lip of thefountain.  As Muggy dangled upside downfor a brief moment before leaping to the ground she saw a tufted ear ooze upout of the granite paving next to the fountain. Her already bulging eyes bulged further. As the hell hound's body emerged piece-meal, manticorae and othergrotesqueries seeped up through the stones and took corporeal form. Muggyshrieked with pure delight.

Fromhis vantage point on the roof of the cathedral Rufus watched the actionbelow.  Young pixies always wanderedround in paggles but this was different. They milled seemingly aimlessly by the fountain in the main square.  Their eighteen centimetre high bodies werecovered in images like nothing Rufus had ever seen before.  He blinked to zoom in closer.  Their pink and orange tinged skin was coveredin a series of chunky white ticks; interlocked letters, a y interlocked with anes and an el; stylized crocodiles and words he did not know the meanings of inelaborate fonts.  These letters andimages covered their bodies so fully that he could scarcely see the originalpixie tones beneath them. 

UnderRufus' watchful eye the milling paggle of pixies began to create an intricateformation which he realised was specifically designed to distract.  Distraction was not the usual method ofmischief engaged in by pixies.  Who orwhat did they want to distract in particular? The effect of all those letters whirling en masse made his head spintill he forced himself to look away momentarily.

Thismass gathering of pixies made the quartz in Gargoyle Rufus' system fizz like hewas being acid etched.  The familiartingle had served him well throughout history. It never failed him.  A millenniumago it had warned him of things to come when Faetaera's very existence wasthreatened.  He did not like theimplication of the crackle emanating through his column.  Rufus relayed the information through toheadquarters.

Thetwins were almost immediately beside him, one on either side, their fingersresting lightly on each of his ears. Janelle and Benelle were never far from each other.  The further apart they drifted the more theyseemed like two halves rather than a whole. They spoke simultaneously, asalways.  "This doesn't look too goodRuf."

Rufus'gravelly voice rumbled with agitation. "You're not wrong there. Will you employ the pixie containment net?"

Thedouble echo of the twins was like a sigh. "Not sure it will hold them. What have we got, about sixty in total down there?"

"Icount sixty three and a quarter. Someone's got a younger sibling down there."

"Whodo you suppose they're trying to distract?"  Both twins were leaning forward as theyobserved the paggle below.  "Couldbe us."

"True."Now that he knew not to look directly into the distraction pattern, Rufus didnot shift his gaze from its edge which was growing more complicated with eachmoment.

"Bettertry the net then."  The twinsdeployed the net.  "See you aroundRuf."

Theywere no longer there, their voices just a linger in the air.

Downin the square all hell broke loose. Rufus considered helping the twins but they were old hands at dealingwith mayhem so he stayed put.  When, fora brief moment, the denizens of hell pushed through the outer edges of thepixies' distraction pattern he was about to fly into the breach.  But the twins pooled their resources,snapping off disjointed limbs and claws, clamping snarling jaws.  In a whirlwind of motion they did what itwould take an entire cohort of foot patrol an hour to do.  Rufus wondered, not for the first time, whereLarell had recruited the pair from.  Twinentities were never seen within city limits. It took no less than four nets toget the paggle under control and the visitors from hell back where theybelonged.  Larell would have to startrecruiting to enlarge the force even more. J and B were an exceptional team. If only the Citadel's security had more of them.  This kind of altercation only proved things weregetting worse.

Rufusliked the quiet life.  When you'd livedas long as he had you saw a good many things and there came a time when youhankered for a bit of peace.  He wasn'tsure he could take another big event like the War to End All Wars.  He sighed and began to de-stone.  Larell would want to review his vision linkwith him directly.  It was time for a bigrethink.

AsRufus made his slow but measured way along the roof tops to his meeting withLarell he felt the old stone in him crunch and crumble in a new way that warnedof an end to all things.  It wasn’t thathe feared his own end coming.  Instead itwas the end of all things he felt saddened by. For his Queen to strive so hard to keep their world from drifting apartonly for it to be happening again.  Wasthis an inevitability?  He longed for theknowledge of the ancients.

Larell.  Thestench of it filled the room.  It’s awonder the poor plants didn’t just keel over instantly.”

Depressed. That word again. 

Thefirst time Larell heard it he had to ask Curly to explain it to him.  “It’s good to have someone on the insideCurly.  Thanks for doing the job at suchshort notice.”

Thegoat shook his head from side to side. “I owed you Larell.”

“Didhe exhibit any other signs we need to be aware of?”  Larell paced back and forth behind his desk.

“Well,I think he’s going to do something to himself.” Curly sat back on his haunches.

Larell’shead whipped round.  “Do something!  You don’t mean…?”

“Ido.”  The goat nodded sagely.

“Thisis just too much Curly.  It’s …”

Curlyand Larell spoke together.  “Unheard of.”

“Idon’t have enough bodies as it is, now I’m going to have to find somebody tosprite-sit as well.”  Larell took a deepbreath.  “So this is what it must belike, this constant anxiety.”

“Yes,they spend a great deal of time and money on therapy.”

Larelllooked Curly squarely in the eye.  “Yousay ‘they’ so easily.  Do you feelcompletely a part of us now?”

“Ido, and that is thanks largely to you.”

Shakinghis head, Larell dismissed Curly’s words. “I didn’t do much.”

Curlymade as though to speak but instead began munching at the corner of Larell’sdesk. To ease Curly’s discomfort Larell brought the topic back to thepresent.  “I don’t suppose you can giveme a time frame.  That would reallyhelp.”

Curlyshook his head from side to side while adopting a tragic expression.  “This was one my horns could just not hone inon.  I’m sorry to have to bring you morebad news.  Word is things are going pearshaped every time you turn round.”

“I’dsay that’s a fairly accurate description of the situation Curly.  Give my love to the family.”

Curly’srump swayed as he exited.  “Will doLarell.”

Larellturned his thoughts back to the new regime he’d implemented.  He had no choice now but to bring Gamden inon the training of the recruits. Gamden’s methods were a bit questionable but he knew how to get recruitsworking together like a crack unit in no time at all.  And that was exactly the situation he feltthey were facing.  No time at all.

***

Curly’sunscheduled arrival in Faetaera was perhaps an omen of what was to come.  When Larell reviewed things, in hindsight hecould see so many little things which had never quite added up.  There was the time that pixie manifestedright in the middle of his office.  Itstared at him blankly then slid to the floor in a heap.  He'd been so surprised it had taken him a fewmoments before he summoned Presley.

Thepixie lay very still.  This in itself wasan anomaly.  Pixies were neverstill.  This one was a horrible greyshade, his skin pruney and puckered.  Hewas also wearing rather strange apparel. What in the name of the Pattern Keepers was going on? 

Presleyhovered over the pixie trying to ascertain whether it was alive or not.  With a suddenness equal to its arrival itregained consciousness, turned back to a more conducive vibrant blue, beamed aglowing smile at Larell, said “She’s feeling much better now.” and de-materialised.

Presley,speechless for once, shrugged his confusion at Larell.

Toothers these things would seem so small and would go unnoticed unless they werelooking for peculiarities, unless they had an inbuilt distrust of anything moreout of the ordinary than usual. Why was he wired this way?  He wasn’t sure.  It certainly made for an interesting youthbut now in his middle years he was less enthralled by this quirk.

Aureliawas only too aware of it.  She told himit was the main reason she had appointed him as chief of security, a post neverbefore held within the kingdom.  That shefelt the need for the position was disturbing in itself.  Larell had been unable to decline her offer. Hadshe suspected something like the fissures could happen?  Perhaps that shimmer he saw surrounding herwas a glimmer of fear just at the edges where no-one else thought to look. 

Becauseyou always look at her through a glass darkly…  Or perhaps you just want to believe you seesomething in your queen which others cannot. Do you really think your love is that powerful?  You lack humility Larell Lac Taal.  You lack humility. 

Tobe near her.  To know her hands touchedthe information sheaves he delivered in person to the palace.  These things meant so much to him when hisday seemed endless.  If his personal effortsmade her sleep better at night, then it was all worthwhile. 

Allworthwhile.

Aurelia sighed.  If it were not for the protective layer of Andian crystal in the walls, floor and ceiling which shielded her private chamber the floor would be carpeted with the tiny star tipped Eidel flower her people wore to commemorate their dead.  Sometimes the constant response to emotions her land evinced tore at her.  At these times she wished for nothing more than to be in some other world where emotions did not lay so close to the surface nor run so infinitesimally deep.  She worked so hard to keep her thoughts and feelings in check.  With Elumin she could be freer but at times even his demands needed to be shut out.  Perhaps that was why he did not like this room.

But every day now she felt the need to sit here for a while, to still the broiling mass of emotions she felt would overwhelm her if she did not have some time to simply be.  Protected by the walls of crystal she had fashioned with ancient magic, Aurelia could let her thoughts drift unchecked to whichever place they wished. 

Increasingly she had found herself wanting to run to the sanctuary of these walls, and more than once a day.  It was unlike her to run from a problem.  Wasn’t that the reason her father placed the net within her hands rather than her brother’s?  Or was it that her father had received a pre-vision of Aris not surviving the battle?

Aurelia saw again the carnage of that time, how the world was laid waste with shards of energy cutting through existence.  The air had resounded with the boom of countless explosions, followed by the misleading tinkle, like the sound of rain on the gold filigree tiles of the observatory.  She remembered thinking how much sounds made by the martial machines resembled a concerto by Vargessa.  How was it war could sound so beautiful yet have such devastating effects?

She had known the observatory was the safest place to be during the conflict but she yearned to be alongside her father and brother.  As a trained warrior she had the right to be there.  It was only her father's urgent insistence which had given her pause.  But she felt trapped by the tower room with its walls covered in pebble shaped tiles. She wanted out.  With her sword clamped between her fists, Aurelia sat poised, waiting, staring out towards the battlefield.

Eventually her waiting had been rewarded.  But the look on her father's face when he appeared before Aurelia told her all she needed to know.  She stood to receive him, laying her sword on the stool she had occupied.  Her legs felt as though they no longer belonged to her but she forced herself to take the necessary steps towards him and embrace him. 

“Should you be here father?  The battle surely needs you more than I.”

He pulled away from her embrace, his features marred by his travails. “Aurelia, it is time for the kingdom to pass to a new successor.”

In that moment, she felt her brother's spirit depart to the Well of Shards.

“There is no time to observe the customary mourning.  I must transfer the Weaving to you, now.”

“So you will go into the Heartlands for the final battle?”  Aurelia's heart ached at the thought that her father passed his mantle to her because he knew of his coming death. It ached because she considered that the knowledge of one's own end must be a hard sorrow to bear and also because she would no longer be able to see her father whenever she wished, to trek with him to the lake where the eaglets sparred or sit with him in the Gardens of Contemplation.  But a warrior princess did not have the luxury of showing her grief. 

Aurelia knelt before her father as he slipped the cloak from his shoulders to hers.  Then he wove the net and as he did, Aurelia felt the chords of his love intermingling with the essence of their beloved Faetaera.  Not until she wore the mantle of leadership had she truly understood how much her father loved them all.

Some days later, when Aurelia sensed her father's passing, a single Eidel flower sprouted at her feet.  She knelt, picked it and placed it in the coronation knot of the cloak she wore.  From that day forth every emotion she felt was made visible for all to see.  A queen could not allow herself to be so vulnerable.  So she hid herself in the tower until the Elnights came.

Her father had known so much and yet told them so little. She had felt at the time that the secrets were a large part of what led to the near downfall of their world.  And as much as Aurelia wished to have a more open Court with less secrecy and intrigue; she found it difficult.  Instinctively she knew she needed to hide the way her emotions spilled out into the world. 

Elumin was the only one who knew and she trusted him implicitly.  He had found out shortly after he arrived with his Elnights.  It was a time when she was struggling to gain control of her emotions.  Aurelia had waited for him to use the knowledge to his advantage but he had not.  And with time she had grown to value his discretion.  It was then she realised any idea of an open Court was an impossibility.  So instead Aurelia worked long and hard to be in command of her runaway emotions.

She remembered the rejoicing when the world was made whole and how she had been praised and raised up high.  While she knew it was her due she had wondered if the people placed too much faith in her abilities.  After all she was young when the burden of power was placed into her hands.  But a queen must look and act supreme and so she did.  And out of the rehearsed part she practised behind closed doors, a reality took shape which she was now finding difficult to maintain.  With age her wisdom had certainly grown but so too had her sorrow.  Only in this room would she consider that she may have made the wrong choices both for herself and Faetaera.  The doubt weighed upon her, made it that much more difficult to maintain control.

Elumin made it easier to bear.  He understood how to take on a mantle and wear it as though born to it.  So, the two of them had a tacit understanding.  And from that their love grew.  And that she also loved another did not matter so very much when a queen took a consort because he was what was right for her people and abandoned the true kernel of love at the centre of her being to soft silk folds of forgetfulness and periodic regret.  Besides, love of any kind is better than no love at all.

And so, in her gleaming carbonised room of rock, the queen thought these thoughts and felt the feelings attached to the thoughts.  Then she abandoned them to the crystal surfaces where they became moving images trapped behind a many faceted mirror.  She left the room and locked everything inside.

“You do know Lac Taal is completely infatuated with you?”  Elumin looked over at Aurelia as they walked towards their private gardens.

“Of course I do.  It makes him work harder to please me.  Why do you think I addressed him directly?”

Elumin trailed his finger along Aurelia’s arm before linking his fingers with hers.  “It was your cruelty which first attracted me to you, you know.”

As Aurelia tilted her head and looked up at him she was careful not to change the expression on her face.  Her heart ached because he thought her cruel.

Elumin chuckled as they entered their private scented glade.  He flicked out a spell to shield them.  A sigh of relief escaped Aurelia as she relaxed her hold on the control she had been grasping to so firmly.

Now, where ever her feet touched the ground, little tendrils of ground cover coiled verdantly as star-like flowers opened with the sound of bubbles popping.  The air was filled with the scent of restraint released.

The couple stopped at the lake where a picnic was set out for them.  They settled themselves and leaned into each other as they began to eat, sometimes feeding each other absent-mindedly.  Neither one spoke.  They savoured the tastes and textures of the meal.

Aurelia’s thoughts began to drift and she wondered if they had all been taking the Days of Splendour for granted.  She’d wanted so much for them to forget the Then – live in the Now.  She wanted such brilliance for her people.

When her populace was reduced to dust in one flick of a hand, the rebuilding took a great deal of time and energy. She’d held the sparkling particles in the palm of her hand and refused to let them drift apart.  Her father’s final Weave shielded her, kept her safe and her duty to save them all was weft into the fabric of being.  And she had saved them.  At least she thought she had.

Funereal lilies began to sprout around the picnic area and their sorrowful scent permeated the air.  Blood red poppies, oozing rust coloured liquid from their hearts, clustered where any part of her body touched the ground.  Aurelia felt as though she were choking on the heavy odours.  How she wanted it all to stop.

“Aurelia, come back to me my love.”  Elumin blew a steady stream of orange zest perfumed breath at her.

Aurelia blinked and breathed deeply.  She looked into his eyes and felt her love for him like a tsunami off the coast of Irenea.   “I’m here.  I’m back.”  Her smile made the lilies and poppies disappear and a profusion of sunflowers burst towards the heavens.

To dream of winter. Like a snowglobe. I closed my eyes and I was there, inside. There was a frozen pound. It was white, cold, crystal. It was white, iceberg white. It was beautiful. All around there was snow. I felt it falling on my face. Light snow. I breathed it. A light cloud, a small crystal, many drops of light. Snow falling down.

I was winter. Snow was falling. Deep snow. I wanted to skate. That was the thing about winter. I wanted to skate. I dreamed of skating. Lutz. Salchow. Axel. Flip. The Loop. Of moving my arms. Of moving my feet.

The music begins. I spin my left foot and so I’m moving. My left foot crossed my right. And I’m moving. Swirling, gliding, skating. I loved my arms when I am skating. They are afloat. And when I lifted my right leg, there was balance. I was gliding on one leg with the other far above me. Once I am upright I pull my right leg back and strike into the ice. My left leg swings around my right leg. I pull my arms in and spin. I spin. I spin. I spin and spin.

When I landed on the ice I flipped and turned. Swirling gladly, I turned and became the elven trees in my snowglobe. I was magical.

I dug my blade in the ice and became the Lutz. I was swirling. And landed on my right leg. Then I was gliding across the ice. From left to right. From right to left. I was twirling, floating, skating. Lutz. Salchow. Axel. Flip. The Loop. I was SKATING.

I was soaring.

I was flying.

I was winged.

Larell Lac Taal’s ankle winglets tingled.  The air of the Court Chamber fluctuated with uneasy echoes. Whispers of past conferences clung to the curves of the vaulted arches.  Larell’s sensitive winglets twitched at the almost imperceptible vibration the room emitted as it ingested the underlying tension. Today the disquiet of the Senex seemed to overwhelm the chamber’s soothing capabilities.  

Perhaps my own concerns are shaping my perceptions. 

He scrutinised each of the Senex members in turn: their Royal Highnesses like carved stone; Queen Aurelia, alabaster but for her eyes, warm as amber, Prince Elumin's colouring more that of green marble, Brairton’s cat eyes flashing in Larell’s direction, whiskers twitching. He occupied his chair with languid ease leaning over towards Mirasel beside him.  But, she furled her delicately arched wings away from Brairton.

Mmmm, she mistrusts him.

Larell's attention was drawn to Emuelle and Rhil as they arrived in a shimmer.  Facing the thrones the twinned pair bowed elegantly from the waist in unison before claiming their seats.  The representatives of the Four Corners were present as protocol required and the proceedings could begin.

The Court Chamber released a deep sigh. 

Or was that me?

No-one could blame the people in the chamber for their alarm.  Least of all Larell.  He hated having to be the bearer of such news.  As Citadel Security Chief he could not shirk his duty.

Rufus, the Head of Gargoyle Surveillance, was the most reliable trouble detector Larell had ever worked with.  The ancient gargoyle could feel the rumblings of the city far beneath the bedrock of its foundations, down to the very core.  He knew when the magma wheezed, when the crust cracked, when the bubbling at the centre wanted out.  It made little difference how small the tremor, Rufus felt it.  The mere fact he experienced a shift made Larell’s insides go cold.

While the Senex assembled, Elumin sat with his arms languidly draped along the engraved armrests of his throne.  Now his left arm moved minutely as he trailed a slim forefinger along the length of the throne arm.  The design carved into the dragon ivory no longer resembled the other armrest.  Eyes pinned on Larell, he spoke.

“Larell, your initial investigation suggests beings are sprouting which seem at first glance to be a part of our world but on closer inspection are not.”

Larell's eyes flicked to the altered tracery on the throne.  “Yes Sire.  As it says in my report.”

Elumin jabbed at the armrest with a long forefinger.  A dent appeared, marring the new carving.  “Summarise it for us.”

Shifting his position, Larell drew in a steadying breath.  “Outwardly they seem like us, but their vibrations do not resonate in the same way.  They have what can only be described as episodes of fragmentation.  Their behaviour is more reminiscent of the world we do not like to name.”

Larell's eyes drifted back to the arm of Elumin's throne.  The little hollow had been replaced by a leaf design.

Always the use of these subtle methods to assert his power and authority over me.  Does he not weary of them?

Brairton’s sultry voice interrupted Larell's thoughts “Once these creatures are captured they will need to be kept under lock and key.  How else are we to ascertain exactly what they are?  We don’t have the capacity to support a large amount of internment.  Since the War to End all Wars we’ve never had to resort to incarceration of any kind."  

A communal tinge of sorrow flowed through the chamber at this mention of the War.

Trust Brairton to put the hawk amongst the doves.  I was hoping to leave this problem till later.

Brairton did not wait for the sorrow in the room to dissipate. Instead he wrinkled the skin on the top of his feline nose as he spoke. "Will this be a problem for you Larell?”

Was Brairton truly concerned?  His cat's eyes together with his sculptured leanness made him so inscrutable.  What if the rumours of his duplicity during the war are true?  “You’re right Brairton, infractions have always been minor, merely high jinx.  Imprisonment has never been a part of our justice system.  When we rebuilt everything, we designed for the better, not for the worst that could happen.  We promised ourselves we would never return to a time like that.” 

The current status of The Citadel bothered Larell increasingly the more information his troops gathered.  In his agitation he levitated several centimetres off the emerald floor tiles.  “I’ve enlisted the dwarves to help with regards the creation of holding cells but it irks me to have to take this measure.  Then there is the fact that to date we have yet to capture one of these… beings.”

The other members of the Senex exchanged significant looks.

 Larell realised his breach of protocol and hastily lowered himself.  He concentrated on the feel of the square-cut gems through his soft soles to reground his emotions. Then he reiterated. “We are however yet to capture one of these creatures.  They are remarkably illusive, despite an increase in sightings.”

The youngest member of the Senex, Mirasel, spoke.  “There’s something else troubling you.”  Her wings fluctuated in colour to offer him moral support.

Smiling his thanks through his eyes, Larell continued. “I suspect they are co-existing.  If this is the case then it means..."

"We know what it means Lac Taal."  There was impatience in Brairton's tone.   "We need more information.  What we need is one of these creatures for study... and questioning.”

There it was, the underlying feeling Larell always had that Brairton was more interested in Experimentation than information gathering. And he knew without question that Elumin would second Brairton’s motion.

Mirasel sighed, her wings rustling her agitation. Emuelle and Rhil shimmered as they sent empathy waves to ease her destress.

As expected, Elumin spoke.  “Mmm, an intensification of the investigation Brairton.  That seems to be what you’re suggesting yes?”

Brairton bowed his head.

Elumin looked first at the queen who nodded almost imperceptibly and then at the rest of the Senex.  “What say the rest of you?”

They all assented.  The situation was too precarious not to agree.

Aurelia finally spoke.  “Larell, I suspect you have already had the foresight to increase your inquiries.  But I nonetheless urge you to make this your highest priority.”

Larell's heart thumped in his ears.  He could hardly hear what she said.  All he knew was that she was speaking to him directly. I must not look at her.  If I look at her I will crumble like rock beneath a well-aimed mallet blow. He focused his attention on the new elaborate tracery Elumin was yet again creating on the arm rests. What was queen Aurelia saying?

“Find out how this is affecting the populace.  You say that at present The Citadel is the worst affected?”

Larell flushed.  He let his eyes flick from the movement of Elumin's hand to the queen’s face, avoiding eye contact, looking instead at the silky smooth curve of her cheek. “Yes Milady.  The fissures appear…”

“Fissures?”

Larell cleared his throat.  “That’s what I think of them as.  Cracks between their world and ours.”  His eyes forgot to look at her skin and met hers.  For an instant everything in Larell’s world stopped.  The queen’s gaze barely grazed his face but Larell felt it like a rain of blossoms on his upturned cheek.  Then her attention moved away and he came back to the chamber.  “I…I believe speed and increased resources are vital. I have a task force watching out for the appearance of fissures.”

“As ever Larell you think on winged feet.  Do whatever you feel necessary to remedy this situation.  I leave all the details in your capable hands.” 

Larell soaked up the queen’s tone of approval.  He only hoped he could live up to her high regard. Elumin and Aurelia rose as one and left the chamber.  The council members followed in their wake.  Larell was left with the faintest whiff of jasmine blossom and his slowly fading blush.  Still rooted to his seat he slammed his fist down on the conference table.

“Idiot.  Such an idiot.  I can take down a gargantuan rampaging troll with the flick of my wrist but the instant the queen speaks to me I become a gibbering imbecile. It’s a wonder she didn’t think I was one of the creatures from my report.”

Presley, his assistant, materialised above the table in a puff of pink smoke.

“Oh for Senex sake Presley.  Were you ear wigging again?  Oh never mind.  You already know all about my failings anyway.  It’s the only reason I don’t fire you.”

“And I’m really good at my job.”  Presley wiggled his genie tail back and forth as he hovered in place.

The weight of Larell’s added responsibilities pulled at his insides.  “Just get me back to the office.  We’ve got a lot of work to do.  I’m not even sure where to start.”

Presley settled himself on Larell’s shoulder as he spoke.  “I can help you there.  Rufus says Gargoyle surveillance is in full swing.  We’ve had a report of an intoxicated goblin with a food product called a burger on its head.  Janelle and Benelle have gone to collect it.  Gamden and the four are holding down the fort till the troops muster in.” Larell and Presley disappeared in a small cloud of smoke and a tendril spiralled its way to the chandelier of the court chamber’s vaulted ceiling. The chamber released a groan.